Nov 30
Holiday Spirit
So this weekend I spent an entire day just wandering around NYC. I did a little shopping, a little eating and A LOT of walking. I also gave about $40 worth of change to the numerous Salvation Army buckets and other charities set up at busy intersections. It started simply when I was getting out at Penn Station and tried to walk past the singing Salvation Army Bell Ringers and felt a tug at my heart strings.
You see growing up I didn’t have much. My parents through amazing hard work were able to give us a roof over our heads and food and clothes but that was pretty much the extent of my existence. And I was happy. I never thought much about it but the majority of my clothing came from Salvation Army and Goodwill. As did some toys, furniture, kitchen supplies. It was because of the kindness of strangers that give to these charities that helped my family survive. It was because of food banks and church charities that many years we were able to have our Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. It was because of them that we got presents EVERY YEAR. Whether it was because they gave them or by giving us food my parents were able to take some money from the budget to buy them. But it was never one sided. When things were going good we made sure to give back so that whomever needed it that year would have it. See, no matter how bad things would get I knew that I would always have my family. I knew that everything else was immaterial.
It’s because of that life that I am determined to give more to my kids. Not because that life wasn’t good but because I can. I am in no way ashamed of the humble life that my parents gave me, in fact, I am proud. They gave me an abundance of love and caring, and that is something that is going to stay with me till I draw my last breath. They gave me my determination to make a better world and life for everyone. That gave me a open heart that reaches out to help anyone that I can. And they gave me the humility to know that it is not shameful to reach out and ask for help when you need it. I would not be who I am without the experiences of youth or without the love that my parents gave me. I only hope that I can teach my children the same lessons that my parents taught me. That no matter what we have the most important thing is the bond and the love between us all.
So, it’s because of this all that I can’t pass a single charity bucket without dropping something in it. I can’t just throw out my kids clothes that are in good condition but outgrown. That I’m going to go to the store and buy about a million boxes and cans of food for the Lincoln Elementary School food drive. I’ll make sure to give at least one toy, per child in my house to Toys for Tots. Because there are still families out there that need those things and are depending on the kindness of strangers. Because right now, things are good and I will never forget to give back when we can.
No commentsNov 13
Biology or control
Once again I find myself angered by another person coming out saying that ADHD is an attempt to control children and force them into conformity. I stayed quiet when Tom Cruise started his campaign against medicating children. And with the countless articles I’ve read claiming that ADHD was created by doctors and parents who couldn’t handle normal child behavior. Today I can’t stay quiet.
I watched a trailer that was posted on twitter by someone that I normally look forward to looking at her blog and her posts and I was appalled. The first strike against this person was that the fact that the post with the link read “Is ADHD biology or another way to control kids?” The film from what I can see is probably a good one and brings out issues within the public school system, things that irritate me but I can’t afford private schooling. But the remarks that are made about this condition, even now anger me. I understand that there are a lot of children out there with the label of ADHD and on medication that don’t need it. Those are children of parents that don’t have the patience to deal with childhood behavior. And then there are children like Quinlyn.
At a very early age Quinlyn started to show signs that something was amiss. She couldn’t control her body (constantly fidgetting or moving), she couldn’t play quietly, always climbing on everything and much more. As time went on and she started school she became disruptive, disorganized, forgetful and her hyperactivity seemed to skyrocket. She didn’t have many friends at school because they all thought she was too hyper, too crazy. Now tell me is that her just being a kid? I have chosen not to medicate her despite the fact that she is a prime candidate for it. I chose not to medicate out of fear that her sweet beautiful spirit will be lost in the process. But it makes me so angry to sit and read or see people out there trying to tell ME that this doesn’t exist.
Those that say that have never seen a child like Quinlyn. It hurts me to have to watch her get so frustrated because she can’t control herself. To see the desperation in her eyes when all she want to do is please us and do her chores or homework but her body and mind won’t let her. To see the circles under her eyes because even when she’s exhausted she can’t find a way to rest. Don’t you, any of you who don’t believe this is real, sit there and tell me that this isn’t until you have to hold a child who came home in tears because one of her friends said she was crazy and doesn’t want to play anymore because she’s different. Don’t tell me it’s not real until you have to sit with them and constantly try and refocus them so they can finish ONE page of homework. Don’t tell me it’s not real until you have to talk to their teacher EVERYDAY because they are having trouble focusing in class or disrupting the class. Don’t tell me it isn’t real until you have to wade through the mountains of red tape to get them the help they need in school. And don’t dare tell me isn’t real until you have to see all of those things everyday and then agonize over the decision of whether or not to give them a medication.
I live with this, watching it, adapting to it and trying to fight it everyday and I tell you now that there is no doubt in my mind that this is real. It is not a phase of childhood, and it is not a farce thought up my pharmaceutical companies, school officials and impatient parents. It is an illness. An illness that I have to watch helplessly as my beautiful girl fights against it. Because in the end I can only help so much because this fight is her own. I only hope that I can give her enough strength to continue her fight and conquer this demon.
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